The Sorceress: An Epic Fantasy Saga (Origins Book 3) Read online

  THE SORCERESS

  ©2021 JAMES EGGEBEEN

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  ALSO IN SERIES

  THE PRIEST

  THE DRAGON LORD

  THE SORCERESS

  THE HEALER

  Contents

  ALSO IN SERIES

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Thank you for reading The Sorceress

  ALSO IN SERIES

  1

  The wizard Skelek stood before his home as he prepared to face his adversary, uncertain he would ever return. He raised his arms and chanted the spell that would bury the complex beneath the earth, safe until his return. The spell of protection he’d crafted would keep it from any prying eyes, should they find it. He felt the weight of the Charm of the Joiner about his neck as he invoked his carefully prepared incantation and drew on the charm’s stored magic. The earth swallowed the structure, mighty chunks of sod rushing around as if a whirlpool had been stirred in the grass. After a hand of heartbeats, the ripples settled and smoothed until there was nothing but grass swaying in the gentle breeze. Not a trace of his presence remained.

  Skelek signaled to one of the three dragons he kept under his spell, the trio that would make an unbeatable weapon in the coming conflict. His mount circled overhead with the rush of wind and the snapping of leather wings. Massive claws dug into the earth as the dragon came to a halt before him.

  Out of the hundreds of dragons that made their home in the realm of man, Skelek was able to command only three of them at any one moment. Try as he might, he had never been able to manage any more than that. It took an immense amount of power to compel a dragon to act against its nature, but he would make do.

  He silently ordered the dragon to lower its head, and it obeyed, gently resting a massive chin on the ground before his feet. He climbed aboard, straddling the dragon’s thick, muscular neck, grasping scales with nervous fingers and digging his toes beneath armor plates to secure his seat.

  He urged the beast. It leaped skyward. Connected as he was to his mount, he instinctively felt the location of the remainder of the dragon clan. They lay open to him, the entire clan, not only the three under his command. He sensed their presence and their individual life forces, even though he could do little but influence their flight while controlling the mighty three. He could still switch command to a new dragon almost instantly and had used his influence to gather the dragons from around the realm. One never knew when having a ready replacement at hand would turn the tide in one’s favor.

  Skelek had laboriously stored power in the charm from his own personal reserves for almost a season. He had forgone the use of magic in any form, preferring to invest it in the charm. It would give him an advantage in this battle, and he would need every bit of it.

  The magic the charm could store was limited and now it was full. It was as much magic as he was able to accumulate, yet it would grow perilously low during the upcoming battle, and Skelek knew he would need to be victorious quickly or lose the battle. If he lost control of even one dragon before defeating Endra, there would be no recovery.

  Skelek and his dragons reached the battlefield where his adversary waited in challenge. Endra was no ordinary wizard. He had ruthlessly taken the power from each of his adversaries and had the accumulated magic of a hundred wizards at his command. His power was formidable.

  Skelek fell on Endra from the air like a bird of prey. The scent of rotten eggs and swamp gas would precede him as the dragon let forth a stream of fire.

  The flame washed over Endra, splitting into harmless streams of fire that licked the ground ineffectively.

  Endra stretched out his staff and lightning shot through the air, following the fire back to Skelek’s mount. The dragon faltered, dropping for the ground, and recovered with little room to spare. There was true power in Endra’s spell, but with the help of the charm, Skelek shook it off, turned his dragon, and reeled skyward once more.

  He drew power from the charm and pressed it into the dragon to supplement the beast’s own natural magic. He commanded his mount, and together with the rest of the clan, they dove once more. This time, Skelek pressed the attack with his own magic. He directed a blast at Endra. It was an incantation he had learned from the ancient text now buried beneath the earth. A spell the wizard was unlikely to have encountered. The spell was effective. Fire penetrated Endra’s shields, and the wizard erupted in flames, but Skelek’s satisfaction was short-lived. The wizard Endra vanished, only to reappear across the field, unscathed.

  Once again, lightning flashed toward Skelek and his dragon.

  Skelek braced himself and turned his dragon for the attack, but he was too late.

  As he invoked his counter spell, the last of the stored power drained from the charm. He was losing control of his dragon.

  He relinquished his hold on his spare mounts and clung tightly to the one he rode, seeking
a place to land.

  He spied a safe spot and directed his mount toward it.

  The great beast flared its wings, snapped the air, and settled to the ground. With limited magic at Skelek’s disposal, the beast was slipping from his control. In moments, he would be out of magic once again; stranded, impotent. What could he do now? Without the dragon, Endra would be upon him and that would be the end.

  The charm vibrated gently, signaling that it was nearly dry. If only he had a source of magic to re-power the charm. He had come so close.

  The dragon snorted, straining at Skelek’s command as the magic faded and his hold loosened.

  Skelek slid from the beast’s neck to the ground and stood beside the dragon, commanding it to be still, knowing it was just a matter of time before his magic was completely gone and the beast would be free once more.

  He grasped a scale to steady himself. His hand touched the soft skin beneath the hard plates.

  Soft skin!

  That was it.

  Skelek took his dagger and pried loose one of the thick armor plates that protected the dragon. He touched the soft skin beneath it and felt the dragon’s pulse. Here was his chance.

  He drove the dagger home.

  Blood gushed forth.

  As the dragon bled out its life, Skelek grasped its magic and directed it toward the Charm of the Joiner. If he could capture the magic of the dragon, he could use it to command the entire clan. He would be undefeatable.

  As he struggled with the magic, Endra approached.

  Skelek raised his shields as best he could and channeled some of the dragon’s magic into himself. It was powerful. Elation surged as the dragon gave up its magic. Great flecks of light enfolded him like a swarm of golden fireflies spinning in tighter and tighter spirals. They paused for a heartbeat, then swept into the charm.

  The dragon turned to a cloud of dust and vanished.

  Skelek gave a cry of victory. The dragons were his. He could command them all. He would be victorious. He reached for another dragon to replace his mount, but something was wrong.

  The dragons were gone.

  He used the power of the charm to scour the land, but there was not another dragon to be found. Above him, a curtain of diaphanous blue green light wavered in the ethereal wind.

  In the moment he had been distracted, they had escaped through the veil that separated the worlds, safe from his magic.

  He screamed at the sky.

  Lightning shot from Endra’s staff, engulfing Skelek in a crackling blaze.

  Skelek struggled to use the charm to power a counter spell.

  He was too late.

  2

  Baron Reik stood on the ramparts overlooking Frostan as the morning sun cast its rays of light off the eastern sea. The morning breeze was chilly, but the day promised to be warm. It had been a long night. The midwife had told him it would be best if he spent his time in quiet contemplation while she handled the birth, and he had, for a time. But how could he wait in quiet contemplation while the heir of his dukedom was being birthed?

  He glanced at the breach in the wall that had occurred during his father’s reign. The king had taken exception to the tight grip Baron Reik’s father maintained on his people. The king had stormed the castle in an attempt to unseat the Reik family and replace them with one more malleable. The only thing that remained of that failed attempt was a blacked and poorly repaired rampart and long-lasting enmity between the Reik family and the king. An uneasy truce had been maintained ever since, but with this birth, that would change. Reik’s son would inherit two baronies and have the troops needed to take the crown from that pretender who now wore it. Soon enough, a Reik would sit on the throne.

  A page approached timidly, bowing deeply. “Sire. It’s time.”

  “My son?” Reik asked. “He’s been born?”

  “The child has been birthed, yes.” the page said.

  Reik rushed to the birthing chamber, but the wizard Phomor stood blocking his path.

  Baron Reik asked, “When will I meet my son?”

  The wizard stood with his back to the door. “There have been complications, sire. Best you wait a bit before you enter.”

  “What sort of complications?”

  The wizard fidgeted, his hands clenching and unclenching. His thin and birdlike features twisted into a mask of fear. “Well, sire, you understand that some things are not amenable to magic; sometimes fate outwits even the most powerful of us.”

  “Outwitted, how?”

  Odray, the midwife, interrupted. “Sire, you have a daughter. Rotiaqua. Her mother named her.”

  The baron glared at the midwife, turning to the wizard. “I paid handsomely for your magic. You promised me a son. A son to carry on my name, to assure that the line of Reik would be unbroken. A son to bring me grandsons to rule the land. What went wrong?”

  “Sire, magic is not precise. I employed all the spells I know. It should have worked.”

  “You promised me a son, and I’ll hold you to that. The next one will be a boy, or I’ll have you burned alive. Your magic won’t save you.”

  The wizard drew a breath, but Odray interrupted. “Sire, there will be no next one.”

  “No next one?”

  “Sire, I’m sorry,” she said. “Births don’t always go smoothly…”

  The baron grabbed the wizard by his scrawny arm and shoved him toward one of the guards.

  “Hold him here until I return.”

  The baron yanked open the doors to the birthing chamber. It was a sight he was not prepared for. There was blood everywhere. On the floor. On the bed. On the rug. Odray had followed him in and was trying to arrange the bed, but he pushed her away. Sheets and blankets that had been bunched up and used to stem the flow of blood had been discarded on the floor. A basket rested on the dresser covered in a blanket, but it was the bed that drew his eye. The woman he had chosen to rule with him lay on that bed. The daughter of the neighboring baron. It was hoped she would bring a unification of the two states. Her children would rule both baronies, commanding as much power as the king himself. He loved her. Truly loved her. He hadn’t planned on that. When he first met her, he thought she was plain of face. As he grew to know her, he realized how wrong he was. Her true beauty shone through. She knew how to make him laugh. She had a zeal for life like no other. When he was with her, everything seemed more alive, colors brighter, flavors more subtle and varied. Even his subjects seemed happier when she was present.

  The woman he had planned to spend the rest of his life with lay on the bed. Her breathing was shallow and her skin ashen white.

  He rushed over and took her hand, at a loss for words.

  Her voice wavered. “Reik? Is that you?”

  “Yes, my love. It’s me.”

  For the briefest moment, her eyes came into focus as they found his face. “I’m afraid. It hurts so.”

  “It’s over. Stay with me.”

  “I’d love to stay, but I fear that’s not meant to be.” Her eyes closed. Her chest rose and fell slowly, only to catch on a breath and pause.

  The baron watched for the next indrawn breath, his heart thumping against the inside of his chest in hope, but the indrawn breath never came. Not in a heartbeat, not in a hand of heartbeats, not even after an eternity. He touched her face. No movement. No smile crossed her face, no pleasant moan escaped her lips. She was gone.

  “Come back.” He bent down and kissed her cheek. It was slack and unresponsive. “Get the wizard in here,” he demanded.

  “Right away, sire.” Odray rushed out, and half a heartbeat later, the guard appeared, the wizard in tow.

  Reik pointed to the still corpse. “Bring her back.”

  “Sire, I tried to save her. It was not possible. There was nothing I could do. Wizardry has its limits.”

  “Wizards!” the baron said. “You promise great things and deliver nothing. Magic has no place in my land if it can’t save my consort.”

  The baron turned to the
guard. “Put this one in a cell. Bind him and gag him so he can’t use his magic. See that he doesn’t escape. When the time comes, there will be two pyres.”

  The wizard struggled in the guard’s grip. “Sire. I’ve done all you asked.”

  “Get him out of my sight.” The baron sank to his knees by the bed.

  It looked as if his consort was sleeping. Odray had cleaned her up and covered her while the baron had been occupied with the traitorous wizard. Reik crawled onto the bed and lay beside her, turning her face toward his.

  “We were going to rule the land together. We were going to raise a happy family, you and I. Now what shall I do?” A tear rolled down his face and landed on her pale flesh. For just an instant, he imagined that this outpouring of love was enough. He imagined that the tear from his eye was the last ingredient in some spell that was now complete. The spell would take hold and she would return. Her chest would rise and fall once again, and color would return to her face. She would take a deep breath and look him in the eye as she always did. All would be well once more.

  He lay there for an eternity, waiting, hoping.

  After a while, Odray returned and knelt beside the bed. “Sire, it’s been two glasses. She’s gone. Let the women come and prepare her for her rest.” Odray laid a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off.

  “She’s not gone,” he said.